


Like Smoke

by drinkbloodlikewine



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:39:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1427116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkbloodlikewine/pseuds/drinkbloodlikewine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bad habits are meant to be broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Smoke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Twerkinghannibal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twerkinghannibal/gifts).



> inspired by my smoking buddy Twerkinghannibal  
> loosely ties in with [Exclusion Theory](http://archiveofourown.org/series/99437)

He looked like a prince. Some cast-down royalty from a deposed family driven out of their ancestral homeland in a far-off place that had a new name since the rebels took over. Maybe he had to change his name, too, since the usurpers thought they’d killed the whole family when they stormed the palace with fire and guns, and he fled with nothing but the clothes on his back until he wound up here, in Will’s cramped District bedroom above a noisy bar.

Will was always surprised to find how poetic Hannibal made him feel in those rare quiet moments they shared together. It was hard not to feel a rush of inspiration - and a bloodrush to other parts - when he looked at the man next to him. He watched Hannibal from beneath a heavy arm, fingers grazing the hair covering his chest, as Hannibal’s lighter clicked in his other hand. The tiny orange flame leapt to life and he took a drag off the fresh cigarette snared from the holder he kept in his coat pocket. Will watched as a serpentine trail of smoke drifted artfully past his lips.

Voices murmured from the streets beneath them and he thought of the rebels at the gates.

Hannibal glanced downward at the smaller man beneath his arm, and Will turned his gaze away before their eyes could meet, chiding him. “I thought you said you had a very particular sense of smell.”

“I do.”

“But you smoke.”

“On certain occasions.”

“Doesn’t that ruin it for you?”

Hannibal ashed his cigarette into an empty beer can that Will had forgotten to clear away before he came over. His grace of movement was positively impractical considering the scene, considering would have looked perfectly at home laid bare across a plush Rococo chaise, attended by servants who would greet him with a golden ashtray. Instead he was shirtless, pants unfastened messily, laying propped up in Will’s double bed on the same worn bedcover Will had since high school. Embers crackled and reflected a pale red glow across the sheen of sweat on his fine features, drawn out in the D.C. humidity.

“It does have a moderately dulling effect, for a time,” he replied, the cashmere purr of his accent sending trickles of pleasure up the back of Will’s neck as the sweet-smelling smoke plumed upwards. “But these are a certain variety of which I am very fond. Imported,” he added, and Will had to try not to roll his eyes, grinning a little. “I try to only enjoy them in particular moments, when the decadence of the act feels appropriate.”

“Like now?” Will asked, sliding a leg over Hannibal and straddling his thighs suggestively, mindful of his own ruddy blush.

The hint of a smile caught like red firelight in his eyes. “Like now,” agreed Hannibal. He pressed the cigarette between Will’s lips instead of his own. Delighting in the taste of Hannibal’s mouth still fresh on it, he drew a harsh pull. He’d stolen his father’s cheap smokes a few times when he was younger, and he let his lungs fill until they burned. He rocked his hips downward against Hannibal’s own, arching shirtless and grinding against him, drawing the cigarette away from his mouth with an exaggerated flourish to let the smoke pour upwards towards the cheap popcorn ceiling.

“It lends itself to a certain mood.” Hannibal’s hands moved to Will’s hips, watching the sinewy curve of his body with fierce appreciation. “In most circumstances it’s a terribly rude habit, an addiction to be fed when it hungers. A weakness.” He leaned in and kissed Will’s jaw as he took another drag, fingers working at his jeans. “But when those baser impulses are controlled, or other base impulses are indulged in equivalency,” he pressed his mouth to the rosy warm skin of the man astride him, “it can be a delightful experience.”

“At least they taste good.”

“So do you.”

Will laughed in a cloud of grey and placed the cigarette back between Hannibal’s lips, letting his touch linger. The misplaced prince grasped the cigarette with fingers draped over his mouth and his chest expanded as he filled with fire. Will slid lower, tugging the absurdly expensive suitpants down off his hips. He ran his mouth over the hardness carving a tense ridge beneath his underwear and bit softly through the soft silk. He could feel Hannibal watching him, eyes heavy-lidded but sharply focused, a wolf stalking prey as Will exposed his cock to the humid summer air and brought it to his mouth.

Firm fingers fisted a handful of curls and pushed Will’s head lower as Hannibal sighed outward, smoke pooling around them. His hips rolled in an easy motion and he pushed his cock past Will’s lips, over his tongue, and a low moan emerged from deep in Will’s chest as he bobbed eagerly on his flush length, hot and heavy against the back of his throat as Hannibal pushed down against the back of his head, tendrils of smoke curling lingering like mist.

He choked a little as he tried to swallow Hannibal’s length, nose tickled by the soft hair around the thick base. Salt and sweat all along his tongue as Hannibal rocked in slow waves, hand holding fast on the back of Will’s head as he thrust slowly in and out of his mouth. Will breathed hard through his nose, the musky scent of Hannibal mingling with the sweet smoke that filled the air around them. He looked upward from under his hair. Hannibal’s eyes were closed, a harpstring tension plucked throughout his torso and cigarette held expertly between his lips as he slid his other hand through Will’s hair, keeping him there while he fucked his mouth.

He sucked hard as he finally drew his mouth away, cheeks hollowing until Hannibal’s cock fell free with a pop. Lips damp, flushed pink and swollen, he kissed upward through the hair of Hannibal’s stomach, biting lightly at the tender skin there, over the taut twitching muscles of his chest, to his mouth. Hannibal puffed the cigarette and it burned hot between their faces. He filled his lungs as Will shed his jeans and slid up to straddle him, and Hannibal tasted himself when their lips met and the sleek-bodied young man lowered himself onto Hannibal’s length. Smoke like burning leaves passed between their mouths in an immolating kiss, more intimate than even the joining of their bodies in joining breath, and Will sighed against Matthew’s mouth as he felt him slide back onto his hard cock.

“How is it?” asked Matthew, body tightening in a ripple of muscle as Will pressed up inside of him.

“Better.”

“Better than him?”

“Better,” Will agreed, smoke fresh from Matthew’s lungs leaving his own. He watched as Matthew took a quick drag, cigarette held carelessly in the corner of his mouth as he braced his hands back against Will’s thighs, riding him with a slow roll of his hips.

“I’ll make sure you forget him. All of him,” insisted Matthew. He wasn’t a smoker, really, but he had noted Will’s anxiety around it. It wasn’t hard to infer from the nervous twitch of fingers and shifting gaze that this was another of Hannibal’s leftovers in need of throwing away. He puffed the cigarette balanced precariously between his lips as he worked himself faster on Will’s cock, hands pushing back through Will’s hair, down to his throat and resting lightly there. He drew the cigarette away and leaned close, passing another breath between them and hoping that the smoke would smudge away the old habits and replace them with the new.


End file.
